Jailbreak
by looks the same
Summary: DCU and Homicide have a tradition. Maura wants in.
1. Chapter 1

Jane blows in through the double glass doors of BP headquarters. She drops the hand that is containing wild curls a second too soon. The wind smacks her in the jaw, splashing her mane across her face so that when she does finally make it inside, it's a nice little combination. Cher meet Amazon.

The security guard smirks. It's a stupid cocky smirk.

Jane attempts to untangle her hair from her eyelashes.

She cares nothing about Officer Man the Door and chooses instead to frantically swipe at her vision. Try to get some clarity, pinching strands of hair between forefinger and thumb to detach them from her lips. That's when she hears it. She whips to her right to find pretty Maura perched on a stool inside the cafe, coffee in one hand, the other pressed over her mouth in attempts to cover the giggling.

Jane smirks. It's not cocky _or_ stupid. Shrug comes next. She settles her appearance once more before making her way towards her morning routine. It's full of hot coffee, yummy scones, Maura grins, and the other woman's incredibly shiny hair.

Jane, well Jane saw that it was good.

She says as much with a firm nod to punctuate the certainty of the statement. Maura just raises an eyebrow. It's a wicked arch that appears over her steaming cup of coffee. The wind must have slapped some nice into Jane because the next thing she knows she is tossing Maura a bone. Maura will tell her regardless if she asks. So Jane might as well get the free points that are just sitting there on the table between the two.

"So how was your date with Keith last night?"

The eyes across from her fall. Dramatically. A frantic shake of the head indicates to Jane that Maura is pretending she doesn't want to talk about it.

"_Maura_. What did you do?" Jane can't help but grin, the tease in her voice fierce. Jane does however restrains herself from clapping her hands and bouncing in her chair because Maura going on bad dates is one of Jane's most favorite things. Not that Maura feeling like crap is a good thing. That's not it. But if girl insists on dating then Jane insists on being an asshole.

Maura huffs, flops her head down on top of her arms across the table's surface. Jane is now distracted by this new view and it's full of all that bouncy shiny Maura hair. She wants to touch it. But just because Jane is okay with being an asshole at times doesn't mean she is unaware of when asshole turns pervy. So she folds her _own_ hands and places them in her _own_ lap.

Besides, she doesn't have to say anything. Maura will talk.

And then she does.

"He was so nice at first. He laughed at all my jokes." Maura pauses here to give Jane a moment to comment. Maura's head is still buried in her arms so when Jane's moment comes and goes without Jane using it, she lifts her head to find brown eyes.

And Jane doesn't want to disappoint so she reaches into her back pocket to pull out The Friend Card. She slaps it on the table.

( It's a figurative card this Friend Card. It's not tangible or laminated. And since Jane refuses to carry a purse, her pockets are always a little full what with wallet, phone, keys, old movie stubs, and random straw trash. There isn't exactly any room for an _actual_ Friend Card but the illusion of it can go a long way. )

"What a keeper." Jane looks down at the card played. Friend suddenly looks a lot like Jealous Lover.

_Whatever._

Maura scowls. "He took me out to dinner. Commented on my dress. Bought a lovely bottle of wine for the table."

Jane wants to mention that any buffoon could do these things.

But she bites her tongue since more often than not when _she_ and Maura go to dinner, Maura ends up paying. Jane also tends not to comment on Maura's appearance. Jane is, well, scared that if she opens her mouth to tell Maura she looks really pretty in that dress that something entirely else will come out.

_Your breasts are distractingly fantastic._

_Your ass is insanely tight._

_Can I sniff your panties, please?_

So Jane never comments. Jane also drinks beer. So basically Jane _is_ that buffoon.

"So what went wrong? Was he a bad lay?" She asks.

Maura throws her hands up. "No! We didn't even get that far."

Jane tries not to cackle in glee.

Maura continues. "Whenever we got close to engaging in physical contact, he got, well. Overly close."

Maura brings her hands together to demonstrate the closeness and drops her volume when she whispers the words. The sound of her palms coming together sounds unusually harsh.

Jane's eyes blink in surprise.

She suddenly wants to sucker punch Handsy Boy here.

"He grabbed you?" Jane asks. "Did he touch you when you asked him not to? What did he do exactly Maura?" Jane growls it out, rising out of her chair, Doberman Pinscher about to take form.

"Oh, settle down Jane. That is not at all what I meant. Haven't you ever kissed someone and it felt like they were trying to kiss _through_ you? And not in a good way." She shakes her finger to demonstrate how not good the kissing was. Then she continues. "It's like entire body asphyxia. It's as if he thought there was more of me, you know, _behind me_. I had to tell him that _this_- was all there was."

Maura motions to her body with her hands, Jane's cadence on her lips. She pulls it off superbly. "You know what I mean?" She finishes.

Jane just stares because no, no she has not felt like someone thought there was more of her, _behind her_, or whatever. She flips through her brain to all the men she has kissed. The list is very short.

"Well it's not so pleasant." Maura points at Jane, shakes her head and goes back to drinking her coffee.

Jane takes in Maura's easy posture, her carefree sipping. She concludes Maura was not inappropriately groped or taken advantage of. She simmers down.

"So he was a smother."

Maura swallows her brew. "Smother is a verb, Jane. As in- to smother someone."

Jane rolls her eyes. "So he was a smother- _er_?"

Maura blinks. "No, I do not believe that is a word."

"Maura!"

"Fine! He was a smother- _er_."

Jane nods approval, thinks about reaching over and kissing the corner of Maura's mouth, soothing out the wince she still has on. But instead-

"Jane, there you are! Did you hear?" Frost's voice swoops in, Korsak close behind.

"Hey Doc." Frost and Maura nod hello while Korsak peels off to stare at something in the pastry box.

"Hear what?"

"Wednesday night. DCU. Maynard." Frost raises his eyebrows in excitement.

"Oh no they don't!" Jane slaps the breakfast table with her palm, smile wide. "Those little boys want to get whipped again?"

"Frost, did you tell her?" Korsak comes bounding over and sets a plate of sugary donuts on the table.

"I told her." Frost answers, then turns back to his partner. "So you're in right?"

"Hell yes I'm in! Hey Korsak," Jane starts, slaps the older sergeant on the gut, upsetting his hand as he reaches for one of the donuts. Vince pauses, hand outstretched and about to call Jane out on monitoring his diet. She shakes her head, _not at all where she was going_, and then continues. "Remember that time, my first time fighting with Homicide, and Brett Landon had me fuckin treed. Out you came! Gun blazing and just unloaded the entire clip into him and that swarmy little partner of his."

Korsak laughs. Laughs at how green Janie once was, climbing trees and shit.

Frost looks on with glee. "Korsak saved _you?_"

"Shut up" Jane hits Frost's shoulder with her fist.

Jane is about to launch more into the last time Homicide went up again DCU. She's about to share with Maura how she and Frost cleaned out half their team within the first thirty minutes. That's when she sees Maura's horrified eyes.

Jane flips through the last few comments made and effortlessly puts Maura's filter on, realizing the talk sounded a little too much like murder.

"Paintball Maur."

Maura only widens her eyes a bit.

"It's a game. Played in an outdoor field with paintball guns that shoot balls of paint."

Maura contemplates that for a moment.

"At each other?" She asks.

She gets three head nods.

There's a beat and there's a pause. Then-

"Doesn't that stain?"

Korsak and Frost lose it, puffs of powdered sugar escaping from lips. Jane ducks her head so not to join in too enthusiastically. She gets her own lips under control.

"Yeah, it stains. But it's too much fun to care."

"Hm," Maura contemplates. "I see."

Maura decides to stay silent while the three detectives fill her in on the long-standing tradition of kicking Drug Control's ass.

This is what she learns.

The outdoor field is in Maynard.

The premise of the game is that in which one team attempts to capture the flag that is guarded by the opposing team without being shot and sent to Jail.

Paintball Jail, according to Jane, is a bitch of a place to be. As far as Maura can make out, Paintball Jail is just a designated portion of grass on the field.

Pretty much anything goes although shooting a paint ball at someone's face is generally frowned upon. Protective eye-ware is worn.

Maura keeps waiting for there to be more. For there to be some major concept that she's missing.

Frankie however interrupts her thought process when he rushes in, face red with anticipation, begging to be on Homicide's team.

Jane slaps him on the back and tells him of course they were gonna ask him. Apparently DCU and Homicide are allowed to ask patrol cops to play so that each team has an even amount of players.

Korsak shakes Frankie's hand.

Frankie shakes Barry's hand.

Throughout it Jane slaps three sets of shoulders.

It's classic male bonding behavior. Slapping. Chest puffing. Recalling past victories. At one point Jane even bangs her closed fist against her clavicle. It's all very cave man like.

Maura swears if she added some authentic garb of sorts, maybe a ritual headdress or chain-mail shirt, that the four of them could be a tribe of vikings about to go claim their spoils.

The spoil in this game, however, is a ratty old flag.

That and bragging rights. It's the first thing about any of this that Maura gets. It's the first portion of this whole concept that makes any bit of sense. _Bragging rights_. Oh.

Maura gets bragging rights.

* * *

><p>"Hey you wanna grab lunch Maur?" Jane swings around the corner of the morgue, slapping her thighs. There's been a shortage of bodies the last few days.<p>

Maura snaps her eyes from computer to Jane, chin still resting in her hands, elbows propped on her desk. "_Yes_. Yes, please." Maura is just as bored as Jane.

( Not that Maura needs a dead body to have work to do. She can do just about anything in this unit! She analyzes samples! Compares DNA! Runs the crime lab! Profiles suspects! It's a plush job. But today there are no cases and today there are no assistants to explain things to. Maura's braincells are dulling. )

"Where do you want to go?" Jane flips through some of Maura's discarded files but stops snooping when Maura scowls at her. She mumbles an apology.

"You pick." Maura shrugs off her ruse of a lab coat. A lab coat that hasn't seen a Y-incision for the last two days. "Maybe somewhere quite so that you can start teaching me everything I need to know. I already wrote some questions down." Maura tucks a notebook into her purse before walking around her desk and heading towards the door.

"Wait, what? Teach you what?"

Jane follows the doctor out of the office. Maura flipping the lights off as they leave. "You only briefly described the general premise of paintball, Jane. I found some information online but I'll need more instruction that pertains to how this specific game, between Homicide and DCU, is played. I want to be an asset to our team."

Jane's fingers freeze over the elevator button. She turns to look at Maura who is smoothing down the front of her cardigan.

This is one of those moments, Jane tells herself. _Be careful with your words._

She filters her voice with a carefree non-suspecting tone. "You want to play paintball with us?"

Maura notices Jane's pointer finger still hovering above the up button. She slips her own finger in front of the detective's and calls the elevator.

She smiles at her shoes. Jane is trying to be good. "Of course. I am part of the Homicide Unit, aren't I?"

"Of course you are." Jane rushes with her words now. "You know how important you are in all our cases, right?" Jane's fingers find Maura's elbow, play with the hem of her sweater sleeve. "I know you don't get enough credit. That's not fair."

"Says the female detective." Maura smiles again as Jane's fingers find her lower back and guide her onto the waiting elevator.

Jane laughs, nods her head. "Yeah, says the female detective."

Beat. Pause.

"So paintball?" Maura continues to grin. She thinks she is shocking Jane. She thinks Jane's hesitation is strictly because she's surprised. Pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah. Ah, paintball." Jane's teeth find thumbnail. "Maura look, the game with DCU can be a little..."

Maura snaps her face from forward to side.

"A little what, Jane?" Fists find hips.

"Nothing! It's just, _you know_." Jane runs her hands through her hair, willing the elevator to hurry. She chances a look at the smaller woman. That eyebrow is arched again.

"Maura, it's a little rough, okay? It's physical. Dirty. Not like yoga. And not really a place where you can strut around in four inch stilettos."

The elevator dings and then opens. Jane hops out.

Alone.

She cringes.

When she turns around Maura is staring her down from inside the elevator. It's one long moment. Maura's eyes are fire. Jane's are Bambi wide. The detective's body prepares to protect itself for when Maura loses her shit.

And the doc _does_ move first. One hand, one finger, straight out. She punches the button that will return her to autopsy without breaking eye contact. Jane's eyes watch the doors close a second too long before she launches herself at them.

"Maura! I'm..." She body slams the metal too late. She punches at the call button, hitting it over and over. "Come on. Come on!"

No go.

"Dammit!" Jane takes off towards the stairs and practically flies down them. She arrives breathless and just in time to see Maura's back as it disappears into her lab.

"Maura, stop! Let me explain."

More nothing.

Jane stops herself, thinks about what her plan of attack is. She comes up empty. But Maura is Jane's best friend. Of all people Maura knows how Jane says things she doesn't mean. Except Jane _did_ mean what she said. But she's sure she can find a nicer way of explaining to Maura how Maura doesn't really want to play paintball anyways.

(Here's some more proof of Jane's propensity of turning into an asshole.)

Jane nods. _Yes_. That's good. Maura doesn't really _want_ to play paintball!

She makes her way down the hall when she hears a sound that she rarely hears. It takes her a moment to place what it is. And then she realizes.

The automatic doors that close autopsy off and are impossible to open from Jane's side are being called into action. Jane watches with wide eyes, not believing. But the doors continue, locking firmly into place. The Infectious Autopsy sign lights up like a fucking mother blaze. Jane hears the ventilation system shut off.

She gasps, whole body leaning back and away from Maura's over kill of a reaction.

Dramatic!

"Are you kidding me? Maura! Stop this, right now!" Jane bangs her fist against the door, craning her neck from side to side to see if she can catch a glimpse of the pissed off pathologist through the window.

And then she appears, right in front of Jane, the thick panel of glass between the two. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest.

"Really?" Jane hollers it at the other woman, gesturing with her hands at the entire situation. "This is ridiculous!"

Maura doesn't move, doesn't open her mouth, doesn't shift.

Jane faces off with her.

The circumstances are different. They always are. But the tension, the _stubbornness_ that radiates from both women is exactly as it always is.

Jane huffs, paces a few steps to her left, keeping Maura in her line of vision. Then a few paces to her right. For a woman that didn't actually want to play paintball, Maura is making quite the fuss.

But then Jane remembers that was her own interpretation of it all. Maybe, maybe Maura actually _does_ want to play. And it's ridiculous, Maura playing. Maura running around in the dark with a paintball gun and shooting 200 pound DCU officers is ridiculous. Maura's soft and perfect skin getting welted up because some asshole shot too close is sorta horrifying.

Beat. Pause.

Screw it! Jane is not Maura's mother. Maura is a big girl.

"Fine!" Jane throws her hands up some more. "You can play!"

And then that eyebrow raises yet again.

"Okay! I'll teach you everything you need to know." Jane is shouting it, making sure the words penetrate the glass.

Maura is a statue.

Jane knows what she wants. Knows it and doesn't want to give it. But what is she gonna do? Leave the hall and what? Go sit upstairs until Cavanaugh notices autopsy has been called into lock-down. Explain how she hurt Maura's feelings and the lady got PO-ed.

Jane gives Maura one more glare, grits her teeth and gets on with it.

"I'm sorry." Jane barely says it loud enough for her own ears to hear. She clears her throat. "I'm sorry, okay. You are a _huge_ toughy, I don't know _what_ I was thinking." Jane tosses her head, jerks her chin. Apologizing is hard enough, apologizing without sarcasm is impossible.

"I want you to play Maura. I _want_ to teach you!"

She stops. She knows that is enough.

Maura stays still one moment longer before nodding her head, her happy smile creeping back onto her face. She disappears for a beat and then suddenly autopsy converts itself back to normal.

Jane folds her arms over her chest and waits for the doors to open. When they do Maura appears and crosses the threshold, her lips brushing against Jane's cheek.

"Thank you Jane. That is very sweet of you." Jane does a double take when Doctor Maura Isles actually pulls away from Jane and then winks at her.

_Kidding me?_

( Props must be given to Maura at this point. Girl has been practicing her subtle wink for weeks now. )

"Jane?"

"Hm?" Jane is still processing. Processing everything. Fucking rooted to her spot.

"Lunch?" And this time it's Maura's turn to guide Jane towards the elevator.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Originally suppose to be 2 chapters. Then I realized I'd written over 30 pages about paintball. Hm. And I wasn't even to the M rating that I promised here. SO. One more chapter to come.**

* * *

><p>"Okay, go." Jane hikes her ponytail up even higher as her eyes find Maura's in the mirror.<p>

Maura's fingers expertly continue to lace her knee-high combat boots from her bent position on Jane's bed. Her eyes leave Jane's reflection and focus back on double knotting the cord, her brain kicking into gear.

"The paint must break upon contact, leaving a mark larger than a standard US quarter in order for a shot to count."

Jane nods her approval and motions with her fingers for Maura to continue.

"A double tap to the chest eliminates a player. Under no circumstances can that player return to the field."

Maura finishes with her combats, standing to push up on her toes to feel their comfort. She gives a firm nod of approval before bending back over to straighten the spandex leggings that are tucked firmly into her black boots. She shifts the tight material so that the seams match up and make a deadly straight line from hip to calf.

"A single shot to the thorax, abdomen, or pelvis including the regions of the right hypochondrium, right lumbar lateral, right illiac, the epigastrium, the umbilical region-" Maura's palms move automatically to touch each surface along her torso as she speaks.

"Maura! Cut it out."

Jane strips her t-shirt off her body and stands there in her sports bra, staring at the doctor whose hand has frozen over her umbillycally _whatever_ region.

Maura closes her eyes, reigns in her need to tell Jane that it wouldn't hurt anyone to use proper anatomical names and descriptions. She snaps her eyes back open just as the image of the detective's bare skin starts to sear behind her closed lids.

"Right. I apologize."

This is not the first time this argument has been had.

Maura clears her throat, eyes getting hung up on Jane's naked torso. Jane's torso is just the sort of torso that deserves the specific titling of such muscle, ligament, and bone structures. Her tendinous intersections so clearly define exactly what it is that Maura is saying.

But if there is one thing that Maura has learned about all of this it's that partners have each other's backs. On the battlefield there isn't time for arguments. On the battlefield you have to be able to anticipate your partner's every single move. And Maura knows Jane. Maura has been anticipating Jane's _movements_ for years now. The thing she has to work on is biting her tongue. In this particular battle Jane is the expert.

So Maura swallows her big ole' brain and starts again.

"An individual is sent to Jail if a single shot hits the chest..." Maura digs her fingernails into her palms. "Hits the back, belly, or even the legs..." Maura's head starts to spin with how nonspecific she is being forced to be.

She can't do it.

"This is utterly ridiculous Jane! A single shot to any portion of the vertebral column would leave a person paralyzed if not dead. And sending them to Jail, even if it is a hypothetical jail, is just not accurate!"

Maura's tongue rolls the words over, spitting them out into the world. Knowledge is a gift! It should not be wasted or construed inaccurately under any circumstance. It's why Maura makes an excellent participant when involving herself in role-play situations of any sort. Her mind, enthusiastic. Her body, willing. Bed partners of the past have landed harshly on either side. Wide eyes of holy fuck! _I get to use what on you!_ To, whoa girl. _Your body shouldn't bend that way._

So when it comes to an evening of being a part of BP's Homicide Unit in a game that is as realistic as it can be, Maura is a firm believer of no exceptions should be made, authenticity must be maintained.

Maura's words keep coming, gestures being hurled wildly in concert with her explanations. "Even the most skilled surgeon would have an almost impossible time stabilizing a victim with any number of gun shot wounds to any of the-"

Jane's long-sleeved shirt slides over her body, her head popping out on the other side. She silences Maura with a look and then turns away to grin overly hard at the predictability of the over-worked doctor. Her heart goes happy.

"Keep going Maur." Jane gets it out between grinning lips. Maura stalks past her to pick up the heavy utilitarian belt Jane is lending her. "Keep going with the rules. Cut the rest," Jane clarifies.

The blonde catches Jane's eyes, light and full of humor. She grins stupidly back, pinching her lips together in a fierce smirk.

Maura starts to thread the belt through the loops of her leggings.

"A shot to the arm, hand, or..." Maura makes sure to find Jane's eyes for this one. "_Ass,_ does not send a player to Jail."

"You can stop with the air quotes around the word jail, Maur. We all know it's not a real Jail."

The doctor can't help but laugh this time.

Jane reaches out to jerk Maura's belt to the center almost throwing the tiny woman to the floor.

"Sorry." Jane laughs as Maura's hands cling to the detective's shoulders. The brunette grabs one of her walkie-talkies, flips it on to test it one last time before sliding it into the holster attached to the belt, now firmly in place around Maura's waist.

"Um, hospital would," Maura gulps as Jane's hands run along her thighs, before making sure the belt is secure. She's pretty damn aware that the location of her thighs and the location of the belt aren't really the same location at all. "_Hospital_ would be a more appropriate word."

Jane looks up. Blonde curls have fallen forward and have splashed themselves onto the detective's face. She stands and hands Maura a hair-tie, mumbling something about a fake Hospital instead of a fake Jail not being badass at all.

Maura makes her way to the mirror hanging on the inside of Jane's wardrobe, grabbing a few bobby pins off the dresser. Her fingers effortlessly start to twist the strands of hair she knows are not long enough to remain secure.

"A shot to any of the above mentioned areas is considered a wound-only shot. The player will be sent to Jail only after a second shot finds its mark."

"Good. Now tell me about the flag." Jane slides her own feet into the black boots Maura insisted on buying her. They're nice so Jane forgoes her initial annoyance at the fact that she and Maura having matching shoes.

"The flag, _Jane._" Maura is in rare form now, the words flowing effortlessly from her lips. She gets off on explaining just about anything to just about anyone. It doesn't matter that Jane taught her everything she's saying. Explaining thing, especially to Jane, is one of her most favorite things.

Jane's throat deposits a harsh laugh.

Maura looks at her from over her shoulder, hands still gripping the fist-full of hair that she's weaving the hair-tie around.

Jane's boots look good on her. Maura goes on.

"Each team protects a flag. The game is won when a member from one team-"

Jane clears her throat.

"Right, of course. The game is won when _Homicide_ captures the flag from DCU's territory and returns it back to Home Base. In typical play an opponent may not take a shot once an opposing team member is safely back on their own side, but here anyone may shoot at any time regardless of boundaries. _Therefore_, not only must the flag be captured but it must also be delivered back to home base in order for the mission to be complete."

_Mission._ Nice.

Jane finishes with her boots and clips her own walkie onto her belt.

"What happens if a player is wounded, shot, or eliminated during their capturing of the flag?" Jane drills her like a sergeant. And Maura is this nice little combination of soldier and student. 4.0 student. It works really well for Jane.

"If a player is shot in a manner that would eliminate them or send them to Jail while in possession of the flag, the flag must be returned. However, if the flag has been captured but is not in the person's possession when they are hit, then it remains in play. Really Jane, I thought one of your axioms in life is, don't ask stupid questions."

Jane ignores that, pinches the doctor on the hip as she passes by to retrieve IDs from respective wallets. Maura is being a little brat. "Example?"

_But_ she doesn't miss a beat.

"Detective Crowe captures the flag but then hides it somewhere in route back to Home Base. If he were to be eliminated, another member of Homicide, say Detective Frost, could reclaim the hidden flag and finish the assignment. Detective Crowe would be able to communicate with Detective Frost, or any member of Homicide for that matter, through the handheld radios."

Jane snorts. Crowe would never be smart enough to capture the flag let alone hide it before he got gunned down.

"Can you use your walkie at any time?"

Maura rolls her eyes. The questions are just _too_ easy. She takes the offered black vest, for warmth not protection, from Jane and pulls her arms through it, zips it up.

"Actually detective, no. The handheld transceiver may only be used if you are in play or in Jail. If you've been double tapped in the chest and eliminated, you must renounce the device."

Jane surveys the doctor. She's dressed appropriately in head-to-toe black clothing. Everything is exceedingly tight which is best for full body movement. Jane tells herself that, tells herself it has nothing to do with Maura's habit of showcasing her body or Jane's own need to be witness. She hands Maura her pair of black form-fitting gloves which the doctor clips to her belt.

"Won't you be cold?" Maura gestures to Jane. Jane's own pants are baggy, heavy cargo and definitely not tucked inside her Wonder Woman boots. Her form-fitting top however is designed to keep body heat in.

She tucks her own gloves into her back pocket. "Nope! I'll be good. Ready?"

Maura nods seriously.

"Feel comfortable?"

Maura jumps up and down a bit and then nods again.

"Primary channel?"

"6188." Maura holds up a finger to stop Jane from asking the next obvious question. "Secondary is 8816. The palindrome was not lost on me."

Jane shakes her head. "I never imagined it would be."

And with that Jane slaps her pocket making sure she has both their IDs and her clip of cash. She grabs her keys and turns to open the apartment door. She stands to the side so that the SWAT version of Maura Isles can lead the way.

Maura doesn't move.

"Jane?"

"Yeah?" Jane half expects Maura to ask her to kiss her. Kiss her before she goes off to do battle.

"Do I look like I've got juice?"

Jane drops her head, shoulders bouncing in amusement. Maura and her obsession with that word.

"Maura."

The doctor just tilts her head to the side, presses her lips more firmly together.

Jane rolls her eyes, her grin threatening to crack off her face. "Don't ask stupid questions."

* * *

><p>At exactly 19:00 Jane pulls up to the Maynard facility. The sky is already dark, an almost full moon burning a hole in the blackness. The outdoor facility closes during the winter months. But as long as there ain't snow on the ground Maynard caters to BP. The course set-up is minimal, BP forgoing the arena that is packed with man-made shelters and hiding spaces.<p>

Tonight the air is crisp but dry. The windless night will make for good conditions. Body heat and exertion will keep the players warm. The stillness will give away any loud movements. It's perfect for Jane. Jane who can move silently, weaving her way through the trees and brush without so much as stepping the wrong way on a twig. Not the same can be said for half her teammates or any of DCU.

The two women make their way towards officer backs. Jane wraps an arm around Maura's waist, leans down so that her mouth hovers near the other woman's ear.

"DCU and possibly Crowe are going to be jack asses about you playing. But you've got me and Frankie, Frost and Korsak. We want you here so don't let it get to you."

Maura leans into the pressure of Jane's side, nods her head. And than Jane's arm is gone and they resume their typical amount of personal space, which in Maura's opinion is a whole lot less than typical. She matches her pace to Jane's stride.

Jane might have been a brat when it came to letting Maura play but once she got on board, she got on board.

"Oh look who's arrived. If it ain't Catwoman and G.I. Jane."

"You gonna remember whose team you're on tonight Crowe?" The two women make it to the inner circle.

"What's that suppose to mean Rizzoli?" Crowe's beady little eyes squint at the detective but then swoop over the doc. Swoop over the doc's legs, eyes dragging from lace-ups to chin.

Jane was just being playful, but the way Detective Crowe's eyes get hung up on Maura's hips... her tune? Changed.

"It means, you gonna have Homicide's back?" It was two years ago and Jane got hit from behind. Nobody on DCU owned up to it, nobody. And at the time, taking out the girl detective would have been something to own up to.

On the streets Jane trusts Crowe even if he is a dick. But when the stakes are lower and the bullets are fake, Jane isn't so sure.

Crowe doesn't even blink in Jane's direction, eyes still glued to thighs painted with spandex. "Yeah. I can do that."

"Hey." Jane slaps him on the chest, getting his attention. "I take it back. All of it. You better spend your energy just making sure you don't get double tapped within the first ten minutes."

She smirks. She doesn't have to create any insults, Crowe's record for this game is insulting enough. And Frost's hearty laugh backs her up.

"Nice partna." For some reason Frost always sounds like a cowboy on paintball nights.

"Hey. Hey, you two." Korsak plays interference, jerking his chin to the side. Jane laughs and tugs on Maura's elbow to lead her a few paces to the left where Frost, Frankie, and a few of Frankie's friends are. They are good men. Jane introduces Maura to them. They nod hello and go back to making fun of Frankie and his dumb lucky bandana that he wears around his forehead.

"Okay everyone, pony up." Korsak gets the group's attention and eleven hands slide into pockets to retrieve cash.

"Jane, I didn't bring my purse." Maura barely breathes it out, standing on tip-toe to reach Jane's ear.

"Shh. I got you covered."

Maura watches as Jane hands all her cash to Caleb Hayes, the exact amount for two players. She blushes as Jane's forethought.

The doctor nods hello to Caleb. He's one of the few detectives she's ever noticed shutting down the inevitable Queen of the Dead comments that follow the ME wherever she goes.

"Hey Frankie, you have it?" Jane nudges her younger brother.

"Of course. Here." Frankie pulls a man's watch out of his pocket, handing it to Jane. Jane sets it to her own before strapping Frankie's watch to her wrist. She picks up Maura's hand, dangling from her side.

"Jane. That's yours." Maura states the obvious as Jane secures the clasp around the doctor's left wrist.

"I know. Frankie brought me an extra. And that fancy one you always wear reflects too much light. Good?"

Maura looks down and then back up as she nods.

The hearty laughter and heavy steps of DCU sounds. The brunette curls a pinky finger around Maura's, squeezes briefly and then drops the contact.

An employee of the facility approaches pushing a pallet of gear. He starts handing out the weapons.

"Here comes your boy toy Jane." Frost laughs, slaps his partner on the shoulder.

"Shut up Frost." Jane points at him, scowling with light eyes.

Before Maura can ask any questions, Jane is giving the laughing group of men a look, attempting to shush them with what Maura thinks is suppose to be subtle movements.

"Hi ey- Hi officer." A boy of no more than seventeen is suddenly in front of the group, his arms loaded with paintball guns. Several of the men to Maura's left start to laugh.

Jane spins towards the boy, her eyes narrowed in mock irritation. "We've been over this Ricky." She points a finger at him. "It's detective."

The boy blushes, his entire face and neck blotchy red.

Frankie and Frost start to unload the guns from him, handing them to their teammates, grinning like idiots. Jane ignores them and squeezes the boy's shoulder.

"But like I said last time and the time before that, you can call me Jane."

The boy ducks his head again, visibly shivers under her touch. "Right, ye-ah um, okay."

Jane takes two guns from him. She turns to start giving Maura the run down.

"Oh! You're not alone anymore Jane." Ricky suddenly goes all brave. Jane whips back to glare at him.

"Excuse me?" She sees him eyeing pretty Maura.

He recoils from her tone. "It just- well you aren't. She-" He points a shaky finger at Maura who blinks back at him. "Another lady, is ah. You know, in the um, unit now." The boy explains himself and Jane sighs relief and then glances at Maura who looks very proud at being mistaken for another detective.

Before Jane can explain, Maura steps up next to her. "Actually I'm Dr. Isles and I'm the Chief Medical Examiner of the coroner's office." She extends her hand to Ricky.

Ricky for all his best efforts still pales at the job title, looking at Maura's hand like he has no idea what it last touched. He stumbles back, mumbling something about handing out the rest of the equipment.

Jane laughs a little, catching Maura's confused face. She leans forward, her breath hitting the side of Maura's hair. "Forget it."

Maura nods, the proximity of Jane too lovely to consider being offended by the boy's actions.

Jane begins Paintball Gun 101.

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later the gear has been passed out. The equipment consists of one paintball marker, locked and loaded with a heavy strap that is currently slung over every officer's torso. The casualness that the others have, hands resting confidently on their weapons makes a stark contrast to Maura who stands with her arms slightly away from her body, stiff, not touching anything.<p>

Goggles rest on foreheads and dangle around necks. Jane elbows Maura to slip hers off her face. When the owl version of Maura turns to her, eyes wide through the plastic lenses, Jane snaps them off herself. She leaves them so they rest against the doctor's clavicle, the same position as Jane's.

She tells Maura to relax and to try and be a better badass. The doctor nods seriously.

The manager of the facility finishes up his safety talk while flashlights get passed around. ID cards get handed back after all the appropriate forms have been signed. He then asks for the team captains to step forward.

Maura's jaw goes slack when Jane steps up. She hadn't considered the possibility that Jane was the lead whatever in this game.

As much grief as the men of Homicide give Jane, they are all aware that Jane is the best strategist and communicator of the group. Most days it pisses them off but when it comes to whipping DCU, they tolerate it enough. She steps up.

Brett Landon of DCU steps forward as well. Jane actually likes Brett, he's good at his job and the two of them worked together when Jane was part of DCU. They shake hands and Jane lets her eyes glance over the other eleven members of DCU's team for the night. Her eyes meet familiar face after familiar face. She nods hello to Leslie and Erin, the two females of the Drug Control Unit. They'd be better friends if the women didn't treat Jane like a legend.

She narrows her eyes playfully at Smith, a patrol cop who occasionally plays for Homicide's team. He shakes his head, grinning as he tightens his hand over Leslie's. _Whipped._

"Standard rules for this evening Brett?" Jane decides to kick this off.

"Like always Rizzoli."

"You want East or West?"

"You know the rules Jane. Winning team from last game gets to pick their side." Brett shakes his head at her, hating her for making him say it.

"Oh is that how it goes?" Jane hears the men behind her laugh.

"Don't be dick Rizzoli!" Jane jerks her head up to find Brett's partner.

She can't help but stir up the good fun. "Or what Raymond?"

He shouts it out so that everyone can hear him. "Or we'll tree your ass again!"

Jane laughs, looking over her shoulder to find Korsak.

Jane cuts the noise. "We'll take the west side."

Brett motions for Raymond to step forward who hands him the DCU flag. Jane turns to Frost. He steps forward to give her Homicide's. Jane and Brett exchange the flags.

"Make sure you hide it in the last quadrant like always, clearly visible."

Jane rolls her eyes. "We always do. Jails on the front line?"

Brett nods. "Bases on the back, far North side."

"Agreed."

"Anyone got any questions?" Brett looks out on the rest of the officers.

Jane jerks her head towards Maura, praying she keeps silent. She smirks when she sees the doctor bite her lip. Maura's pretty laugh can be heard when she finds Jane's eyes, the silent communication so very their style.

When nobody raises a question, Jane hollers for everyone to pair off. The twenty-four players instantly shift so that they are standing in pairs. Jane surveys DCU, no real surprises hitting her.

She steps back and gestures with her head for Maura to come stand by her. She gives Frost a smile as he and Frankie stand next to each other. Frost was a good sport when Jane told him she was fighting with Maura this time. She watches as the other detectives pair up with their partners, the patrol cops doing the same. Korsak and Hunt, one of the other older detectives, stand next to each other. They are excellent shots and will do well protecting the flag.

"Well lookey here. I never got the memo that we're letting girls play now." Kurt from DCU, the biggest asshole of them all, calls it out as Maura gracefully takes her place next to Jane.

"Shut your face Kurt." Leslie and Erin's voices ring out in unison.

Crowe laughs behind Jane.

Maura speaks up. "Let me guess," Maura gives a nice Maura size pause. "Kurt Kendall." She smiles politely at the mass of a man standing a few yards away.

For all of Maura's awkwardness, the tone that comes spilling out of her mouth is the perfect blend of sarcasm, wit, and fake intrigue. "Jane told me about you. Let's see. You've been a part of DCU for the last three years, a total of seven of these games."

Maura taps two of her fingers against her lips as if she's having to think hard to recall the specifics. Jane knows that isn't the case.

Kurt should just stay silent. Stay silent, eat his fist, and bury his head in his inevitable humiliation. But Kurt is Kurt so he talks. "Yeah, that's right."

Maura continues as if he didn't just interject. "During your first, second, fourth, and seventh game, you were the first member of your team to be jailed. One of those times was by Detective Jane Rizzoli here. On your third and sixth games you were double tapped and eliminated within the first thirty minutes."

Beat. Pause.

"Were those both done by you too Jane?"

Jane tries not to howl in glee.

"And your fifth game," Maura's voice pauses, this time she actually turns to face Jane. "Was that him as well? Stumbling along a flag in the middle of the field, assuming it was DCU's, picking it up and carrying it further into Homicide's territory only to be shot down with the Homicide flag on his person. I believe he was eliminated less than ten feet away from Homicide's home base."

Maura shrugs her shoulders and turns her back fully to Kurt _Motherfucking_ Kendall. "That win shouldn't really go on your own record Jane. He simply handed that one to you."

Jane's team is gone. Even Crowe is snickering into his shoulder.

Kurt is red, huffing his anger as several of his pals push on his shoulders, telling him to forget it, attempting to hide their own laughing grins.

"Okay. Okay." Everyone settles down when Jane starts talking. She looks at her watch. "We'll start at 20 hundred."

And with that she turns back to her team and motions with her hand for them to all start making their way to Home Base on the west side. When they get far enough from DCU she swats Maura on the ass.

"I have never loved your perfect genius memory more than in this moment."

Maura blushes and smiles loudly at Jane's obvious joy.

"So Doc's got a mouth on her!" Frost jogs up to the two, pushes up on Jane's shoulder, doing a dumb but kinda cool ninja kick in the air.

Korsak huffs as he runs to catch up. "Kurt had it comin." He slaps his hands together, tells the doc well done, shooting her a wink. Maura giggles with pleasure. She's part of a team.

The four pick up their pace and continue on, walking in a horizontal line. The three detectives fall into easy talk, strategics and what not. Soon they arrive at Home Base and Maura slows her pace to watch the three people she cares for most in this world make their way towards the rest of Homicide, plans and attacks being thrown out for consideration.

She feels like she belongs. It's dumb, she knows it, but there it is, the emotion on her face. She wipes her gloved hand over her cheek, smearing away the happy evidence.

"Maura!" It's Frost, turning back to see her a few yards away. "You coming?"

Jane picks her head up, along with Korsak. Vince grins, Jane waves her arm motioning for the blonde to get her ass into gear.

Maura laughs softly. Her vest feels tight against her really happy heart. She nods her head and jogs towards belonging.

* * *

><p>"Maura." Jane hisses it out between teeth, her body coming to a grinding halt. A Maura sized person slams into her back.<p>

"Ow." To Maura's credit, her exclamation _is_ quiet, barely a whisper of a breath. She peers over Jane's shoulder. "Why are we stopping?"

"You're fucking plastered to my back Maur!"

Maura looks down at the nonexistent space between her chest and Jane's back. "Oh. I see." She takes two steps back, readjusting her gear. "Can we practice shooting again?"

"Maura no! This is real now. We're in the game. No more practicing." Jane waves her arm forward to indicate they are moving on. She scans the area and moves with practiced steps into the fierce shadows only to whirl around a moment later. "Jesus, you move quiet."

Maura only throws her arms up in disbelief. "I thought that was the point Jane." She hisses it at the tall brunette who seems to tower above her in the shadows.

"I just thought if I couldn't feel you on my back that I'd be able to hear you." Jane sizes up the other woman. She looks fierce, that much was clear from the beginning. Tight garb, high ponytail and all. And now apparently she moves like a jungle cat or something. _Jungle cat?_ Jane shakes her head and pulls her shit together. _Or something._

"What now? I didn't even do anything." Maura reacts to Jane's gesture. Having to tilt her head up to even see the detective. It makes her feel unbelievable short, makes her feel less than. So she clicks on her flashlight and jerks her hand up so that the beam smacks Jane in the forehead. Evens things out a bit.

"Yo, hey! Turn that thing off. Fuckin blinding me."

Maura sighs and clicks the thing off, slipping it back onto her belt.

Jane gives up. She can't see anything anyways what with the spots flashing behind her lids and clouding her vision. She can't hear anything else except the utter silence that is Maura behind her. Frost at least breathed heavy. And now that she's back in Maura's personal space she can't smell anything else besides whatever it is that is distinctively lovely Maura.

"Jesus, what is _that_?"

Maura spins on her toes and lowers herself into a dramatic crouch, gun propped on her shoulder, finger on the trigger. She peers into the dark, even snaps her goggles off to see if she can see anything. "What did you see?" She whispers it out, assuming that Jane is in a similar position behind her, gun poised, ready to take out whoever it was that Jane heard.

Jane of course heard nothing. She saw nothing. She's standing behind Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, with her fists on her hips. "I didn't see anything. I didn't hear anything. Come on killer. Over here."

Jane tugs on Maura's elbow because she always does that. Maura follows because she always does that too. Jane plants the other woman with her back against a tree and then positions herself behind another tree right next to her.

"What did you mean then?" Maura says it as she snaps her goggles back onto her face.

"What did I mean when?" Jane plays dumb. She's not about to tell Maura that she actually asked out loud what that lovely airy fresh smell is that seems to always linger and radiate off the other woman.

"You said, _what is that_."

"I did not." Jane waves her hand in the air, trying to clear Maura's stellar memory.

"You did too Jane."

"What, you gonna stick your tongue out at me now?" Jane can't help but grin at the woman next to her.

"Maybe." Maura smirks back and Jane can't help but glance down at the woman's lips. Maura just laughs. A little too loudly. She slaps a gloved hand over her mouth to shut herself up. She mumbles out an apology.

Jane only shakes her head, her smile still fierce even as she tries to hide it.

"Shouldn't we keep going?" Maura asks it as she peers out around her tree, seeing nothing but blackness.

"Nope. We're here." Jane does her own survey of the clearing they're on the other side of.

"Where is _here_ exactly?"

"Here. This is where we wait. We wait for Caleb and Scott to infiltrate and give us a better idea of where the flag is hidden and where DCU is placed. Then we'll proceed. This is the waiting part."

"Oh..." Maura sighs and looks around once more. "Well that's anticlimactic."

Jane only laughs into her shoulder. "I'm gonna get a better view." She points at the tree above her and starts to readjust herself so she can heave herself up.

"According to Vince climbing trees was something you only did when you were, _green and dumb as fuck_."

Jane almost loses her grip on the bark but she manages to swing her legs and pull her upper body up and into the heart of the tree. "Please don't ever quote Korsak again." _Green and dumb as fuck._ Shit. "Besides what Korsak doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Being secretive can still have emotionally painful ramifications on the person not being disclosed to. Even if someone were not aware of the vital non-communicative piece of information, a void or feeling of being dismissed is still a common experience. So while Vince may not be consciously aware of your behavior it would be inaccurate to say that what he doesn't know doesn't still hurt him on some level."

Jane just peers down from her perch. She squints her eyes so she doesn't miss the pursed Maura lips that always come after speeches such as this one. Once she sees it she shrugs her shoulders, looks away for a moment before glancing back down at the woman on the ground.

"So you coming or not?"

Maura just peers back. "You mean, you want me to come up too?"

"Well I didn't ask the tree-climbing-ribbon-placing-champion to be my partner for nothin."

"Oh." Maura sizes up the tree. "Well okay. But Jane, I received a certificate not a ribbon."

And with that Maura gracefully and strategically climbs up. She perches herself higher up on the heavy branch that Jane is crouched on. "I can show it to you some time if you'd like."

If Jane didn't know Maura like she does, she would have missed the drop of sarcasm that just barely coats the doctor's tone. But she catches it and snaps her head up to find her friend's eyes. They are bright and happy, teasing and dramatic. _Nice_.

And then Jane goes back to the serious shit of scoping out any DCUers who may be near enough to now see from the tree's advantage.

That's when Jane sees it. Fucking unbelievable! Kurt Kendall and his partner Sandoval are strolling right through the open. They send cursory glances over their shoulders but for the most part they are careless in their position. The two of them are still a good distance off and Jane peeks at Maura to see if she has spotted them. Maura is peering intensely in the opposite direction.

"Hey." Jane's tone drops to a whisper. "You still want to practice?"

Maura mimics the detective's volume. "What should we shoot?" Her excitement still bursts through the dramatic whisper.

Jane just points at the two men who are heading right in their direction.

The doctor's eyes fucking light up the sky.

One gloved hand whips out to land on Jane's thigh, squeezing the muscle in excitement.

Jane holds up a finger, pressing it against her own lips to communicate silence. She leans closer, her breath finding the space between Maura's jaw and collarbone.

"They're gonna walk right under us. Look through the scope like I taught you, aim for the chest and squeeze off two shots in succession. Regardless if you make contact or not, readjust your position and try for the other. I'll back up all your shots, okay? Lean into the branch so that if they return fire you don't fall."

Maura goes dead serious as Jane leans away. She nods curtly and adjusts herself, gun raised, eyes settling. Jane watches Maura position herself and then raises her own weapon and finds the targets. They're fucking clustered right together. Jane herself could double tap both of them without effort.

She waits. She waits and she waits. The men are close enough and still Maura isn't taking the shot. The detective loses her focus, glancing over at the other woman treed beside her. That's when she hears Maura's fingers make contact. Jane slams her eyes back into the scope just barely catching the second burst of paint as it shoots right over Sandoval's shoulder and smacks loudly into tree bark.

"Fuck." Jane swears it under her breath as the two men start yelling and dashing for cover. Jane finds Sandoval, his back to her, an easy target. She doesn't even pause to see his reaction once she knows she made contact. Instead she searches out Kurt. Kurt who is cursing up a storm and yelling madly at his surroundings wondering who the fuck is shooting at them.

He's still a few yards from the closest tree and as he dashes towards it Jane finds him in her crosshairs. That's when she hears it.

"Focus Isles."

Maura's voice is soft, commanding, and almost void of tone. It throws the detective long enough that her fingers freeze yet the unmistakable _pop pop_ of Maura's trigger being pulled rings through the air. Jane slams her face upwards and no scope is needed.

Two bright green paint marks are splattered on Kurt's chest. He's standing there, gun on the ground, staring in disbelief.

"Who the fuck is out there?!"

Jane would answer. Jane so wants to answer. But right now the wide eyes of the woman next to her are every way distracting. Maura glances from her kill shot to Jane's wound shot. Then her eyes find Jane.

A beat and a pause. Maura is breathing heavy in the silence and then her smile comes. And when it comes it tugs on Jane's own. _Holy fuck._ That's when the laughing starts.

"Still anticlimactic?" Jane can barely get the words out as she swings her gun so that it rests against her back.

The question only sends Maura into more laughter, the sound ripping out of her throat. It's pretty. The full-on tilt of Maura's neck as the sound dances out, is hypnotically pretty. It's also unmistakably female.

"How you doing down there Kurt?" Jane tosses the comment out, watching as Kurt looks frantically amongst the ground for whoever it is to show their face. Jane's words must finally have meaning because his gaze swoops up and finds the two women.

Jane grins like a boss.

Maura doesn't even attempt to silence her laughter. "Oh, Jane. That was so fun!"

The red that stains both male faces is unmistakeable.

"Better get going Kurt. Haul yourself out of the game and leave your buddy there in Jail. And for the record, this time it wasn't me. This time it was the doctor, _the girl_, who double tapped you out."

Jane positions herself so she can drop from the tree. She turns back to help Maura down, finds her waist and helps her make the transition.

"Thank you for the boost in confidence gentlemen. You were both excellent target practice. I noticed during my first two shots, the ones that went straight into that tree there," Maura pauses to point. "I was not taking into account the vast height differences between your position on the ground and my position-"

"That's good Maur. They're humiliated enough. Better get going." With that Jane pulls on one of Maura's belt loops and heads off in the opposite direction. But not before Maura gives both men a distinguished and reverent head nod.

* * *

><p>"Fuckin hate this!"<p>

"Ease off partner. We've still got a chance." Frost is just as worked up as Jane but he knows if the two of them lose their shit, that the rest of the jailed members of Homicide are gonna give up. And Frost is a firm believer in team morale.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." Jane stomps around some more, the rest of her teammates giving her a wide berth. Or what's allowed of a wide berth in the tiny confines of the Homicide Jail Cell.

"How's it going in there Rizzoli?" Brett yells it out from his position inside DCU's Jail, ten yards away.

"Same as it's going for you Brett." Jane huffs it out, annoyed when Brett only laughs. Jane is jailed along with Frost and most of the Homicide team. Crowe and one of the patrol cops have been double tapped and sit out on the sidelines with three of DCU's members. Frankie, Korsak, Hunt, and Scott are the only members of Homicide not in Jail.

Oh and Maura, Maura isn't jailed either. Maura is fucking MIA.

Jane slaps on her walkie again, cursing herself for her lack of brains when she thought she'd hit Leslie but had in fact missed and been shot in the shoulder in return. She radios Korsak and Hunt who are guarding the flag. She lowers her voice so that the DCU jail guard doesn't overhear her. Korsak and Hunt have taken out a crap load of DCUers, the majority of them sitting in the adjacent Jail. Frankie requested radio silence over twenty minutes ago and Jane doesn't want to blow whatever plan he hopefully has.

Maura won't answer her damn radio. Jane isn't even sure if the woman remembers that she has one. The last time Jane saw her was right before all hell broke loose. They'd been deep in DCU's territory. Frankie and Frost had been attacked and the next thing Jane knew she'd been wounded. Caleb was shot in the back and Frost had one shot to the hand and another to the ass. The ass thing would have been hilarious if it didn't mean that Homicide only had four players left in play.

Oh and Maura Isles. Five.

And while Maura may have been an excellent shot when she was perched in a tree with Jane next to her... by herself? By herself and wondering where the fuck everyone is _and_ not using her radio? Jane's pretty sure she's freezing her ass off while analyzing breeds of bark or something else completely bat shit crazy like that.

So four. They've only got four members still in play. And Korsak and Hunt are protecting the flag. Scott is protecting Homicide's Jail, concealed behind a boulder the size of Texas. Jane picks out Erin of DCU who is perched in the low branches of a tree not more than twenty feet to Jane's right. She's a sharp shooter.

"Who else do they have out there?" Jane barks it to Frost. Crowe decides to answer instead.

"Well you got Snow White over there in the tree."

"No shit, Crowe."

"And they've still got Raymond and Smith out there somewhere."

"Right, right. Anyone else?" Jane scans the other jail, counting. "They've still got two others."

"Leslie." Caleb throws the name out. _Right_, how could Jane forget the chick who shot her shoulder out.

"Oh, that one dude." Frost nods his head at Jane.

"Christopher Slazenger." One of Frankie's patrol buddies speaks up.

"Right. Right."

Korsak radios in to Jane and she ducks her head to take it. He asks if she's heard from Frankie. They've decided that if Frankie doesn't make contact in ten more minutes that Korsak is gonna leave Hunt with the flag and come take Scott's position protecting the Jail so that Scott can go looking for the other Rizzoli.

"Come on Frankie." Jane mumbles it to herself as she finally lets herself sit down in the corner of the jail. She drapes her arms over her knees, glancing over the field. A leaf winks back at her. She freezes, eyes locked on the spot. Nothing. She holds her breath and then she sees the slight movement again.

She drags her eyes up to Erin who is scanning in the opposite direction. Jane finds the distant spot again and this time she actually watches as Frankie slips from behind one tree and darts to another.

Jane nudges Frost's leg with her toe and then glances in Frankie's direction. They watch together and then Frankie dashes a little bit closer. The rest of Homicide and DCU are oblivious.

"Damn. You think he's going for Erin?" Frost whispers it out and then not so subtle glances in the woman's direction. Erin catches the movement and snaps her eyes in Frankie's direction. Jane holds her breath and then hears the splash of paint as it drives into a branch right below Erin's body.

Immediately Erin positions herself so that the tree covers her.

That's when Frankie steps out from his cover. He's got his gun trained on Erin but they're too far from each other for either to make an accurate enough shot. Scott peeks out from behind his boulder and before anyone can blink Erin sends off a shot in his direction. He ducks back, the paint lodging itself against the rock.

"Whoa! Looks like we're gettin a little action!" It's Brett from DCU and he springs into commander mode, directing Erin to stay put. Frankie keeps coming closer, his gun never leaving Erin's face.

"Scott, you got his back?" Jane shouts it out. But she isn't sure if he can hear her because suddenly everyone is yelling, shouting at their team member whatever advice they think is appropriate. It's fuckin chaos and then every member of Homicide that is cramped inside the jail is on their feet, yelling and cheering on Frankie. Frankie who like an idiot just keeps on gettin closer.

Erin has a clear shot of him but she's weighing her chances, knowing if she goes for Frankie and misses that Scott might have time to find her with his own shot.

"What is Frankie doing?" Frost curses under his breath as the man keeps getting closer. Everyone has clear shots at this point.

"You shoot me, and Scott is on your ass Erin." Frankie shouts it out as he breaks away and pauses behind a tree.

"And what? I should just let you waltz in here!" Erin peers out from behind her scope, glancing in Scott's direction.

Brett starts yelling more instruction. He tells Erin to not shoot and then a few moments later changes his mind.

Frankie starts fucking negotiating. "How about you let me take one Homicide member out of jail and I'll back off."

It isn't even a rule. It's not an option but for some dumb ass reason it makes Erin pause. She yells out to Brett if that's an option. Brett yells out to Jane if that's an option.

_No! It is not an option._ But Jane is pretty sure Frankie would pull her so she pauses, trying to figure out how to make this legit.

Frankie however doesn't pause. He just keeps on coming. It's too close to the end of the game. Every member is valuable and here Frankie is just walking on up like he owns the place.

"Get your ass behind a tree Frankie!" Jane yells it out but Frankie doesn't listen.

Erin squeezes off another shot in Scott's direction, keeping him crouching behind the boulder like it's his home.

"Let me take Jane and then we'll leave nice and quiet." Frankie's voice commands silence from the group. Jane whips her head back to Erin. Every single pair of eyes are either on the younger Rizzoli or the woman in the tree.

"No. No way." It's Brett. "Take him out Erin. Scott's a lousy shot and from this angle he won't even get close to making purchase!"

"Frankie! Tree now!"

But then like a dumb shit, Frankie opens fire. He squeezes off three rounds in Erin's direction but she's too perfectly placed that they hit bark instead of skin. He dives to the ground as she starts returning them. It's a fucking rainbow blast. Blue, yellow and orange paint flying over the heads of both Jails as all three start going at it.

Frankie is scrambling. He's up and then he's down. He crawls to a tree right as Erin lands one on his foot.

"Fuck!"

One more wound shot and Frankie is done for. Homicide is done for.

A whoosh of air hits Jane's side.

"Oh! I made it."

Jane whirls to her right to find Doctor Maura Isles standing beside her inside the jail cell.

She just stares, mouth open, and then paws at Maura to make her turn around, making sure the woman is here without a splatter of paint.

She's sweaty, her skin shiny, her cheeks flushed bright red. Her messy ponytail trails strands of hair that plaster themselves to her neck and face. There's dirt smudged on her forehead and covering her boots and ass. Her right sleeve is torn and exposing skin. She's got Frankie's lucky bandana tied around her left hand but Jane can still see the raw scrapes and scratches shooting past the material and making their way up the doctor's wrist.

But! Maura has not a splash of color on her.

Fucking no. No, _no_. They did not! _Holy mother of god_-

"I believe this is what you call a Jailbreak," Maura says. Winks, actually winks at the detective, and this time her voice draws Frost's attention.

"Wait, what?!" He exclaims.

That's when Jane finally gets the situation crammed into her head. She turns back to see Frankie still shooting at Erin from behind his tree. She sees it for what it is. Distraction. Brilliant distraction.

Jane lifts her head and yells it out.

Loud and fucking clear.

"JAILBREAK!"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Done! Thanks for reading. Thanks for getting excited and being lovely and whatever else you were. I appreciate it. Enjoy! **

* * *

><p>Nobody quits asking them to tell it again.<p>

Nobody.

They ask for it when six different shots find their mark on Erin's person.

They ask for it when Homicide is in route to the flag.

They ask for it when Jane and her team open fire on the remaining Drug Controllers. The blast of neon paint as it abstracts itself over Leslie, Smith, Slazenger, and Raymond is beyond pretty.

They ask for it when Frankie bends down to sweep the flag from the dirt, gripping it in his right hand.

They continue to ask for it when all of DCU has been accounted for and is either sitting on the sidelines or fuming with anger inside their cell.

They ask for it when Homicide meets up with their own prison guards in route back to Home Base. Jane leads her pack, Maura at her side. She can't stop pushing on the smaller woman's shoulder whenever Frankie yells out some new little detail. She's beyond proud.

They ask for it when they rendezvous with Korsak and Hunt, insist they tell it yet again.

The only time they stop asking for it, stop asking for the details of The Adventures of Officer Frank Rizzoli and Doctor Maura Isles, is when Jane motions to Frankie and tells him to finish it up.

A complete hush falls over Homicide, most likely due to the fact that Crowe is still warming his ass off on the sidelines, but then Frankie shakes his head and hands the flag to Maura.

They stay quiet while Maura finds her boots with her eyes, holding the ratty, once white, flag tightly in her grip. They don't start hollering and yelling until Maura picks up her face, blinks away the overwhelming happy that swims in her eyes, and jogs the remaining distance. Homicide breaks their silence as her feet cross the non-existent line that separates Homicide's territory from Homicide's Home Base.

The win is theirs.

Jane wants to hug and giggle madly with every man who is standing there shouting and clapping for the doctor. She wants to buy them all drinks, presents, extra packages for their pension plans. They may be men who get irked at the female detective with the highest clearance rate the department has ever seen. They may still on occasion take their emotions out on her with careless language. They may scoff at the high-class, so very put together, and so clearly feminine doctor who willingly submerges her hands in decaying bodies. They have their faults. They do. But right now they have stepped up. And in doing so they have just made Maura's freakin day. Judging by Maura's happy face, her freakin year.

Gear gets dropped off. Obligatory handshakes are given out. Drug Control's untouched flag gets passed back. Thanks are given to Maynard for their facility and guaranteed grand time. Bragging rights go straight into effect.

Plans are made for Homicide to meet up at the celebratory bar they own on these nights. Frost can't stop pointing at Jane, that grin of his almost scary in its size, telling her she better watch out. He keeps gesturing to Maura and Jane can't really figure him out. But she shoves him into his car and tells him she'll see him in a few and then she goes to find the champion.

Jane lets herself into the dingy bathroom, finding Maura staring at her own reflection with wide eyes. And Jane gets it. Maura looks nothing like herself. She wets a paper towel and wipes off the dirt that smudges her pretty friend's face. Maura's bloody palm is treated. Frankie's bandana exchanged for three fresh bandaids that Jane finds in a first aid kit in the back of her car. Maura won't answer her when she asks where it came from.

The blonde's sweaty hair somehow transforms itself into perfection. Her curls are tighter than normal, more wild, more like Jane's. The detective holds a Maura strand up between her fingers, she tells the doctor she likes not so put together her, then drops the strand and blushes fiercely.

They are the last to leave and Jane swears she can still hear, or maybe more feel, Maura's excitement through her over-worked heartbeat when she leans in to open her door.

Jane pauses with one hand holding the passenger door open as Maura makes no move to slide in. Instead she settles herself against the car and looks back at the now deserted and dark field. Jane lets the door slam shut and stands next to the other woman, following her gaze.

"Fun?" Jane knows the answer but she wants to make this feeling last as long as possible for the other.

Maura's breath comes whooshing out of her chest, words tripping on the last part of her exhalation. "So much."

"Sorry I made those comments before, about you playing. That wasn't nice." Jane stares down at the ground for a beat.

She misses it when Maura looks over at the detective's downturned face. "You're right. It wasn't nice."

And because Jane keeps her eyes on the dirt she also misses the delight that tugs at Maura's cheek bones. There's a flash of amusement that chips off from the corner of those green eyes and that left dimple pops for a moment before disappearing.

When Jane finally does look, Maura is gazing upwards. Jane takes in her jaw, her lifted face, the long column of her throat.

Maura doesn't acknowledge the fact that Jane is staring. Jane knows it and Jane knows Maura knows it. It no longer needs to be said. They spent all last year flirting over the fact. It's not new. In fact it's so old that Maura expects it, demands it and Jane, Jane just really likes watching. So Maura doesn't glance over at the other woman, in fact she settles back against the car all together. She lets her head tip back even more so that it rests in a semi-comfortable position as she continues to gaze at the sky.

Gazes at the sky, thinks about the warm body that stands beside her.

"Jane?"

"Yeah Maura?" Jane wonders if Maura notices how often the two of them say each other's name. Maura started it, that much is certain. Four years back on their second day of duty together Jane told the doctor to please, please not call her Detective Rizzoli when it was just the two of them. Maura calls Jane by her first name like it's a badge of honor. Like she is proud to know this woman. Jane uses Maura's name as frequently as she does because she likes the way it sounds on her tongue. Habitual. She also likes the way it tastes. Safe. Maura's name tastes safe inside her mouth.

But right now isn't about safety or habitualness or comfort or ease. At least Jane doesn't think so. And Maura, Maura knows so.

So she makes her wait. Makes her wait so that the dark and the silence have a chance at becoming two bookends to what she wants to say. Maura can only guarantee the first. It will have to be Jane who decides about the last.

"I'd like for you to take me to your bed now."

If Maura were watching Jane and not the sky she would see that Jane doesn't flinch. Doesn't arch her eyebrows or turn her head away from the other woman. But she doesn't need to see it because in this moment Jane Rizzoli wouldn't dare act any way other then expecting. Maura does however wonder for a brief moment when requests such as hers became the norm, became the presumed.

The answer is probably a long time ago. The casualness of Maura's question is exactly the same size as the casualness of their sleeping together. It matches perfectly, edges neat and even so that if Maura wanted to put in a row of sutures she could do so with ease. Except, they aren't sleeping together. They're fucking. Jane insists they call it such so Maura chastises her mind and corrects her verb.

What Jane does do however is run her eyes from Maura's throat to the woman's barely exposed clavicle. This is the dangerous part of Maura. The first time they slept together this was the part of Maura's body that completely upset her the most.

There were parts of Maura that Jane expected to like. Like her breasts. Like how the first time Maura had thrown her own blouse off her body, unsnapped her own bra and flung it to the floor. How she was done with the action before Jane could figure out which end to start with on her own god damn belt. Like how the sight of Maura and her really nice tits was something Jane knew would be good even before she had her best friend's nipples in her mouth.

She expected other things too. She wanted to push down on Maura's back with two fingers tucked under the woman, fingering her while she rode the back of Maura's thigh. She wanted to use the strength of her own scarred hands to control Maura's hips, control her pleasure, control her release. She wanted to get wet just by inhaling between her best friend's thighs.

And she did.

Jane wasn't at all surprised when her back started to cramp out and her brain started to explode with the first glimpse of all the blonde hair splayed over her own torso while the doctor ate her out.

But it's that part of Maura's chest, the part right below collarbone, littered with freckles, that Jane never really considered. Because right there, right there is where that scent that is everything Maura, starts. It's so warm right there. It's where Jane wants to live.

Because Jane has had enough violent orgasms with her own fingers up inside herself and with Maura's body imprinted on her brain to know that fucking her best friend would be really good. And it is. It has an intensity to it, a required amount of force. Jane demands the hard pace and Maura is always willing.

But there are also times where the two can barely stop laughing long enough to come. There are times where Jane sees bright lights and shudders with her arms holding Maura to her chest, fingers intertwined together. Fucking dangerous. Dangerous fucking. _Whatever._ It ain't good.

Because sometimes when Maura asks Jane to take her to bed her tone implies the sweetness. On those nights Jane makes a habit of taking the doctor some place that will erase all ideas of slow and warm, drawn out and lingering. She takes her to a bar. She takes her dancing. She makes her wait long enough so that by the time she does get Maura into her bed she's past the stage of wanting to touch Jane's face, wanting to burrow into the detective's side.

Most of Maura's requests, however, follow code. Her tone just implies want. Tonight however her tone is unreadable. And Jane is far too involved with staring at that spot that feels like home to trust herself to keep this hard and good.

"Our team is expecting us."

Maura huffs. Yes, huffs. Pushes back against the car and stands on her own two feet. She turns to Jane.

_So._

"So, we can't keep them waiting."

_After then?_

"We'll see."

This time when Jane opens Maura's door, the doctor slides in and buckles up. Jane is all the way on the other side about to open her own door and climb in when she realizes Maura wasn't even talking out loud.

* * *

><p>Jane isn't certain what Maura thinks this is about. Maybe she thinks this is a gay thing. Maybe she thinks this is a co-worker thing. A best friend thing or a Dean thing. Jane isn't really sure what Maura thinks about why Jane refuses for this to be more than the occasional really good fuck two or three times a month. For all Jane knows Maura is making an active choice on her end to continue this exactly how it is.<p>

But it's not a gay thing. Jane isn't that close-minded that she'd actually not be with someone based solely on their gender. BPD can eat shit. Besides headquarters has quieted down over the last few years. Jane hardly ever catches them huddling together and gossiping like little girls anymore. She kind of misses it. Misses knowing exactly what her place is. Knowing that they're talking and therefore she must work harder and better than all of them to make a point. Jane likes making points.

It's not a co-worker thing. If Maura were her partner, the person she threw and caught bullets for on a daily basis, then yes that would be a situation. But Maura lives all the way down in the basement and Jane has already made an effort to eliminate her unnecessary accompaniments into the field. She talked to Korsak and Frost too. Everyone just needed a nice little reminder of what exactly Maura's job title was. So co-worker thing, no.

It's not a best friend thing either. Jane thinks more of Maura than that. Jane doesn't make a habit of having friends who turn into assholes once things get complicated. And she hopes, hopes Maura feels the same way. She couldn't imagine walking out on the doctor's life for any reason, ever.

And it's certainly not about Dean. Dean is fucking boring and a boring fuck. And Jane hopes to god that men like him aren't all there is out there.

It's a Maura thing. Jane doesn't know if Maura knows that. But then again Maura is a smarty so maybe she does. It took Jane a long time to grow-up and when she did she came to the conclusion that finding someone to spend your life with was just that. Someone that you spent your hours with after work. Someone you came home to after your responsibilities. Someone who you could tell your life to. That person wasn't suppose to _be_ your life. And that's not some teenage depression speaking. That's the truth. And the other truth is that if Jane were to be with Maura, really be with her, then her words would have to change. At the end of it all she'd have to say that what she did with her life was be with Maura. That the most important thing she ever did was love her. And that's not Jane. Jane doesn't want that to be her.

Who Jane and Maura are on the occasional nights when Jane just can't help herself, stays put. It doesn't leak into their life. They act as they have always acted. Jane still gets jealous over the men in Maura's life. Maura still looks at Jane like she's never had her. Apparently Jane took Maura's lesson about compartmentalizing real serious. So serious in fact that the truth, more often than not, slaps her fully in the face, unexpectedly. She's sleeping with Maura. It's easier to forget about it.

It doesn't matter that everything about Maura is everything that Jane was pretty sure didn't exist. That the company they keep with each other is every side of real. They fight with the kind of love that screams togetherness. They touch with the familiarity of forever. The first time they slept together was awkward as hell. It took some time for it to get good and then some more time for it to get really good. And Jane knows that if she lets herself fall in love with Maura that everything she thought about togetherness and forever will be wrong.

Jane hates being wrong.

* * *

><p>The story keeps getting repeated once they hit the dank little Maynard bar they always celebrate in. Frankie repeats it over and over. The more shots they buy Frankie the more embellished the story gets. The more shots they buy Maura the more coy <em>she<em> gets.

By the end of the night it's as if Frankie and Maura met among the tree-tops. He saved her hand by bandaging the torn skin. The torn skin she'd gotten single-handedly escaping two members of DCU. She came up with the brilliant plan of Frankie distracting Erin while she jailbreaked the rest of Homicide. To hear him tell it there were bombs being dropped while _Eye of the Tiger_ played over the action.

In reality Maura spotted two DCUers and ran in the opposite direction, tripping over a tree root and scraping her palm. Frankie stumbled on her when he rounded a tree and found her squatting in the dirt trying to soak up her bloody hand with her frayed sleeve.

She had demanded the use of his bandana and then proceeded to wrap the injury herself. Then she started whining about missing Jane. Frankie decided that the two of them could capture the flag on their own but Maura had refused. When Maura made to grab her walkie-talkie so she could ask Jane what they should do, Frankie had grabbed it from her, insisting they not say anything until they were certain no member of DCU would overhear them.

Around that time is when they'd quarreled like little girls.

Frankie had carelessly gestured in the direction of the Jail where Jane was being held and after that it was impossible to stop Maura from jogging in that direction. As a last ditch effort, Frankie peeled off in hopes of distracting Erin while Maura did her thing.

There were no tree-tops.

There were no bombs.

There wasn't even a plan.

And there definitely was no Rocky.

Still though. After that, capturing the flag had been a cinch. It was done in a matter of minutes and all of Homicide was there to witness the victory.

And now, too many shots later, Frankie is starting to tweak out and demand his buddies forever call him _The Man_. Everyone is loud and Jane isn't sure how many more G.I. Jane jokes she can take. Her own head in buzzing with happy, the fruity drink Maura forces her to try zings on her tongue. Korsak can't stop slapping everyone's shoulders and Frost is doing that weird two finger pointy slash winky thing he does whenever he's stoked up the wall.

Jane props her chin in her hand and turns her face to find green eyes looking at her. Maura's red cheeks stain her ivory skin. Her eyes are bright in that way that means she's two drinks away from sloppy and weepy.

"Ready?" Jane mouths it to her, smiling at the doctor's flushed face.

Maura gazes back at the group of men. They've welcomed her full heartedly tonight. Even Crowe is being decent-ish. In a few days the high will wear off and most of them will go back to calling her Queen of the Dead. But tonight, tonight she belongs.

But the men are also intoxicated to the limit and the flirty and frankly inappropriate comments have already started. Caleb keeps hugging her a moment too long and Crowe is still staring at her chest. One more drink and Maura is pretty sure ass slapping comes next.

She nods to Jane.

* * *

><p>Maura is showered. Showered and re-bandaged. She sits cross-legged on Jane's bed, clad in a pair of Jane's boxer shorts and the last clean thermal Jane owns. She figures she started this night wearing Jane's clothes so she might as well finish in them. She's got a pair of Jane's hockey socks on, bright green ones that stretch up past her knees but leave her feet bare. Leave it to Jane to never do her laundry.<p>

If she were sober she probably would have dried her hair since sleeping with a wet head tends to make the morning's styling routine damn difficult. But Jane's blowdryer is one of those ungodly contraptions that no matter what you do, no matter how far away from your head you hold it, it grabs at your strands and sucks them into the grate. And burt hair that you have to cut free isn't really something Maura wants to deal with tonight.

So she sits on Jane's bed, waiting. Waiting because she knows what comes next. And Maura likes this next part. Enough that she doesn't even mind the fact that she's dressed as she is. Doesn't mind that when she flops down on her back in the center of Jane's bed that her wet hair starts to seep into the pillow.

* * *

><p>Jane knows she's taking too long. Knows that the doctor waiting for her is probably running statistical analysis comparing Jane's average shower lengths. She's hit her mark and then some.<p>

She is also pretty sure she knows what Maura thinks she is doing in here. Because sometimes that's just how Maura's head works. But Jane isn't doing anything. Well, besides washing her hair twice and trying to get rid of the idea that Maura is her home. But Jane has had just enough alcohol that her thoughts don't last very long. And every time she gets to the important part of her talk, her brain goes fuzzy and she can't remember where she left off.

In fact she's not even certain she did wash her hair twice. It might have only been once. And it might have been with that coconut body wash that Maura bought her which smells almost identical to Jane's shampoo. Something about conflicting scents not being a good thing.

But Jane is definitely not doing what Maura may or may not be thinking that she's doing with all this spare time. Definitely not. Jane shuts the shower off and starts drying her skin. Half-way through she realizes she's not getting good results. That's when she realizes the towel she's using is Maura's wet towel. Well Jane's towel. Maura's towel that Jane used or Jane's towel that Maura used.

_Whatever._

She decides to just get dressed.

Clean underwear. Check.

Clean tank top. Check.

Clean pants.

Clean pants?

Pants of any sort?

_Fuck._

But Jane can do this. All she has to do is walk from bathroom to closet. Find some pants and then go to bed. But Jane's brain goes through what she'll find in her closet. She definitely won't find _clean _pants. And getting caught sniffing her dirty sleep-ware before choosing the sorta cleanest pair isn't really something Jane wants to happen.

That will make Maura laugh. And laughing, giggling, carefree sex is exactly the thing Jane is trying to avoid tonight.

Jane needs to pull it together. Slap on her sexy aggression and just go do Maura. She can handle this even if she is pant-less. This. Is. Happening.

So Jane walks out. This is her place. Her home. She's calling the shots.

Except Maura is lying in the center of her bed. Maura is wearing her hockey socks. And Jane loves when Maura wears her clothes especially when it's something Maura would never wear anywhere besides Jane's bedroom. She loves it. Loves it. Dammit! _Hates it._

So Jane is standing there in her clean panties and her clean shirt. And Maura is lying there in that ridiculous so very not Maura outfit. And Jane can't help by look, really look, at the bare part of Maura's thighs that stretch from where sock ends and boxer shorts begin. And seeing all that soft skin always makes Jane think of that warm spot on Maura's chest that she's addicted to. She finds it with her eyes and _fuck_ it's covered by material. Illusions can be some powerful shit.

And then there's the fact that Maura's eyes are open. Watching her.

"Nice shower?"

Maura sits up but doesn't move over.

"Um hm."

Beat. Pause.

"So tonight was fun." Maura says it cause it's true. And because Jane's legs are bare. Bare and just there.

"Yeah tonight was really fun. I had fun. You had fun. Fun was had. Everyone. Everyone had fun." Jane hears herself. It's already a disaster. She's trying to toughen up. It ain't happenin. "I'm gonna go feed Jo."

Maura just nods. Jane leaves. Maura listens to Jane's footsteps. One, two, three, four. Stop. Maura knows Jane is eyeing Jo's bowl. The bowl she already filled when they first entered the apartment. Maura waits another few beats before she counts Jane's steps as they head back in her direction. One, two, three, Jane.

"Well move over."

Jane can't find her balls. Can't find her need to just get Maura off and then take hers without running her fingertips softly over Maura's eyelids.

She tries to will back the image of Maura in her badass gear tonight, dirty with sweat. The image flickers for a moment and starts to make Jane hard but then Maura pulls her legs up to her chest and rests her chin on her knees. Jane wants to hug her.

_Gah_. Sleep. They'll just sleep.

Jane flicks the lights off, plunging the room into blackness. Maura scoots to her side and then leans over and flips on the lamp next to the bed.

"Maura." Jane growls it out even though it was an anticipated move. She sits.

Maura stays silent. She rearranges herself, adjusting so she faces the detective. Jane mimics her position, both of them cross-legged. Maura eyes Jane's legs again. Jane grabs a pillow and places it in her lap.

Beat. Pause.

"Yes, Maura?"

"I think we should talk about this."

"Well, I don't think we should talk about this."

"Jane."

"Maura."

Maura just raises an eyebrow.

Beat. Pause.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

Maura trades more banter for silence.

Jane knows she can't outlast her on this move so she talks.

"Fine. You can talk about it but I don't have anything more to add to the subject." Jane throws her hands up and then pushes herself back so her head can rest against the headboard, tugging her pillow with her.

"Okay." Maura un-crosses her legs and then re-crosses them. "Typically under these circumstances the two of us would engage in some form of sexual contact. However, of recent, you've been hesitant. Tonight you've been even more so."

"Drunk."

"Pardon?"

Jane squares her jaw and wraps her arms more tightly around her pillow. "By circumstances you mean drunk. We do the sexual contact _thing_ when we're _drunk_."

Maura cocks her head, face scrunching up for a moment. "Well yes. That would be accurate."

"See!" Jane shifts in her position, trying to melt into the covers.

Maura is all types of confused. She needs more information but Jane is acting like a two-year-old. And Maura would normally tell her to use her big girl words but she knows from experience that tends to set the detective off. She bites her tongue. She swallows the words and chooses new ones. "Would you rather we have sexual contact while not intoxicated?"

"No!"

"Jane." Maura lowers her chin at her friend, a wet strand of hair working its way loose, ditching forehead for air. "You're being rather difficult."

"Am not." Jane regrets it as soon as she says it. Actually she regrets the Maura laugh that comes spilling out of the other woman's throat. She carries on. "And angry. Normally we're angry and I'm not angry right now."

"Angry?"

"Yeah."

"Angry sex? Normally we have angry sex? Is that what you're saying?"

Jane looks at her. She's trying to figure out how Maura has missed such a thing. "Ah, yeah Maur."

"Oh." Maura nods her head, finally gathering the wisps and strands of Jane's cognition. "Hm. No. Not for me." And now she's shaking her head. "I haven't been angry at all."

"Maura, come on! You have. Come on." Jane gestures wildly to the two of them, to the bed, to Maura's body, to the room. She wills Maura to just admit it.

Maura listens to Jane. She watches her hands. And then she considers. "Right." She pauses, then finishes her statement. "But no. Not me."

"And I'm the one being difficult!"

"Have you been angry Jane?"

"Yes!" Jane pushes herself up off the bed, finding the well worn carpet with her feet, paces. She snaps her head in Maura's direction, convinced she'll find a head drop, a pained expression, possibly a tear.

None of it.

"Oh. I didn't know. What are you angry about?"

Jane ignores that last part. There's enough in that first sentence to keep them busy.

"You didn't know? Come on! You and I... we aren't exactly slow and sweet."

Maura considers that. "We aren't exactly rough and violent either."

Beat. Pause.

"What part of all this have you not been at? It _is_ rough. It _is_ violent. Or at least sorta."

"Exactly."

Maura thinks that finally Jane is getting it. Progress is being made.

"Wait. What?" Jane.

"You said it Jane." Maura.

"That it's rough and violent?"

"No. Sort of. _Sort of_ rough and violent."

Beat. Pause.

Silent Jane. Maura continues.

"I wouldn't really use rough or violent to describe our sexual encounters at all, Jane. Intense, yes. But rough and violent? I've had rougher. I've definitely had more violent."

Beat. Pause.

One more beat, a handful of pause.

A frozen Jane for good measure. And then-

"Excuse me?"

"Oh! Nothing I haven't consented to of course. But I've had several sexual relationships that were constructed around sadistic and masochistic interactions. In fact-"

"No. Stop talking!"

"Why don't you just sit back down Jane."

"No."

Beat. Pause.

Jane just stares at Maura. Maura who is basically telling her that their sex is vanilla. Elementary. Just about _not_ what everything Jane thought it was.

Maura just watches Jane. Jane who is standing there. Legs.

"Wow." Maura hears her own sarcasm roll off her tongue. She's pleased with how it sounds. "So paintball is fun." The words whoosh out of her chest as she flops back down onto the bed. Her head has almost stopped spinning and Jane has definitely killed her victory high.

"Was one of them Ian?"

Maura contemplates shifting up onto her elbows so she can see Jane. But Maura decides to just go with lazy. Maybe it's this conversation. Maybe it's the alcohol seeping out of her system. Maybe it's the socks. Wet hair. Jane's thighs.

She stays flopped back.

"What about Ian?"

"You know what."

"If you want an answer then you're going to have to use your words." Whooping ass on paintball has turned Maura into a snarky version of everyday Jane. It suits her. She thinks she'll keep it.

Maura can hear Jane clamping her fists shut. But then the next thing she hears is Jane's absence. This time she does glance up. Empty. _Really. Really?_

But then Jane reappears with a glass of water. She takes a long drink and then offers the glass to Maura. When Maura shakes her head, Jane takes another gulp.

"Were you-" Gulp. "A submissive-" Another gulp. "To Ian?"

"What makes you think I was the submissive one?" Maura can barely even get the sentence out before she starts laughing.

Jane mumbles something about now not being the time for Maura to practice her jokes.

"Okay. Okay. Sorry. Ian? Yes."

"Fuck."

* * *

><p>"Sit up." Jane's voice slips easily into the commanding cadence she only uses for work.<p>

Maura sits. Sits with her legs dangling off the bed. Thighs together. Back straight. She glances at Jane. Jane glares back. Maura effortlessly slips her headspace on. Raises her face, straightens her jaw, drops her eyes.

Jane washes her brain. Rinses out the clarity of the image that Maura has done this before. Attempts to scrub out the stain of Maura sitting so perfectly, clearly trained, on the edge of Jane's bed.

"Come here."

"Yes."

And then Maura is standing in front of her. Eyes down. Body straight. _Fuck._

"Take my clothes off."

Maura's hands leave the small of her own back, fingers finding the hem of Jane's shirt and pulling upward. She gets the material in her fist and stills her movements.

Beat. Pause.

_Oh._

Jane realizes she's waiting for instructions on what to do with it.

Damn. This dominant thing has a fuck load of steps.

"Ah. You can just drop it."

Great.

Real controlling.

Maura however doesn't break. She doesn't grin or duck her face because a laugh is attempting to spill free. Jane finds it sad.

As soon as the material hits the floor, Maura's fingers go to the waist band of Jane's panties. Jane hadn't really thought through her lack of clothing and how after her shirt she'd be down to only this. She battles with herself. Goes back and forth between how Maura would feel if Jane slapped her hands and told her no, not yet. And by the time she's chastised herself for even contemplating Maura's feelings, she's buck naked.

Hm. Tricky shit.

She removes herself and goes to sit down on the bed. When she gets there she finds she left Maura back on the other side of the room, facing away from her.

"Come here."

Jane sees the situation for what it is. Boring as fuck. She grits her teeth and ratchets it up.

"On your knees. Right here." She yanks Maura down to the floor between her legs. If she ever imagined this type of situation is was full of Maura mistakes. Like now, Maura would grab Jane's thighs and Jane would slap her hands away and tell her not to touch. But Maura isn't fucking up at all. Maura is some sort of pro.

Way-

Way out of Jane's league.

Jane grabs at the other woman's chin. Jerks her face up. "Look at me."

Maura does. She's open. Relaxed. Confident yet also compliant. It makes Jane wet. Even wetter when Maura runs her tongue over her own lips. Jane knows what comes next. And she's prepared to ask for it. Demand it. Get off on it. This is what she wanted anyways. And clearly it's what Maura wants too. So she spreads her thighs at the same time as she pulls Maura in closer, leans down so she can grab at the smaller woman's lips.

But then suddenly someone else wants to be in control. Suddenly Jane isn't alpha. Suddenly Jo Friday decides she's over being neglected and comes hurling into the bedroom, jumping up and attempting to lick Maura's shoulder.

"Jo! Stop! Get out of here."

Jo's a bitch and politely declines.

"Jesus. Get off of her."

Maura just stays still and it only multiplies Jo's confusion. No petting, no cuddling and no kisses from his second most favorite person. Jo vamps up her own energy. Through horrified eyes Jane watches as Jo scratches up Maura's arm. Girl doesn't need any more damage on that side of her body.

"Jo! Get off. Come here!" Jane scoops her up at exactly the same moment that Maura obeys the command. It's a tangle of Maura's head smacking Jane's chin, a chorus of puppy barks and a string of cursing.

"Fuck. No, not you. You sit." Jane points at Maura and flees the room before she can check if the doctor is listening. She tosses Jo into the kitchen and then shuts her bedroom door behind her. Maura is now sitting, legs bent and to the side, clutching the top of her head.

She looks up at Jane as she reappears. Eyes lock.

Too much. Too, too much.

And Maura loses it. It starts in her shoulders and travels in every which direction. She's laughing so hard that she collapses back onto the carpet, hands over her face, giggling into her palms.

Jane almost beats her to it.

"God. That was awful." Jane gasps it out between the delicious sound of laughter.

"Bad." Maura snorts between her words, whole body still writhing on the ground. "So bad."

After a few good beats Maura peeks over at Jane, also on the floor and sees that the woman is still naked. It only makes her laugh harder.

"Shut up." Jane reads her effortlessly and shimmies back into her panties. Once she's got her confidence back on she grabs at Maura's hand and drags the laughing thirty-something woman towards her.

"Ow! The carpet Jane!"

"Sorry." More laughter. "Sorry love." It slips out and neither notice. Jane rolls Maura on top of her.

Maura scoots her body so that it lines up with all the parts of Jane that fit her best. The position comes effortlessly. And Jane raises one hand to hold back Maura's now dry and wild hair so that pretty faces can be seen.

"I just can't treat you like that."

"I know."

Maura silences anything else with her lips. She avoids Jane's open mouth, lingering over her jaw, chin, bottom lip. When she does pull at Jane's tongue, it pulls a moan with it.

Jane starts to break for breath but Maura demands a little more attention, only leaving Jane's mouth when she's good and ready. She leaves the detective panting underneath her as she sits back on the woman's pelvis and lifts her shirt off her body. Jane's fingers grip the top of Maura's ridiculous socks, snapping the elastic in excitement. It makes Maura smile hard.

And when Jane's eyes find that spot she loves, she drowns. Maura's flushed skin pushes those freckles into sharper contrast than typical. Jane's thumbs start to connect the dots, tugging down until the woman is lying flush against her, faces hovering.

"Sorry I couldn't do it." Jane says it, fingertips finding cheekbones. She cradles Maura's back before rolling them over. Dark hair spills everywhere and Maura tucks it back only to watch it slip forward.

"Don't apologize Jane. I'm glad you couldn't."

Jane pulls back a little bit at that. "Really?"

"Yes, really. There's a reason why I didn't let you drive me to that airport. A reason why I didn't follow him home."

Jane tucks a strand of blonde hair back, this one stays in place. She searches green eyes. Honest.

Loving Maura might just be the most important thing she ever does. Today, in this moment, the thought doesn't sound so terrifying.

"Jane?"

"Hm?"

"Remember when I jailbreaked everyone from paintball prison?"

Jane tucks her face into Maura's, her laugh spilling into the other woman's hair.

"Yeah Maura, I remember." Her eyes find the expanse of that chest. She glances up once more. Green eyes.

And then she goes back to that spot. It's warm. And yes. Yes, yes. Oh, is it warm.

* * *

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